


Business Casual

by 200percent_inlove



Category: K-pop, Red Velvet (K-pop Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Exes, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Friends With Benefits, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Too much sex ;_; help LOL, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-14 21:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19281784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/200percent_inlove/pseuds/200percent_inlove
Summary: There’s a clear rule established that no unnecessary fraternization is allowed between employees. But then again, why would Park Jimin and Kang Seulgi obey when it’s so much more fun to rebel against authority?Office AU.





	Business Casual

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me, y'all. I've fricken sinned. Jk.  
> This has been sitting in my WIPs for a long while now after I Like That, and I was really close to scraping it too. Until, for some unknown reason, one day, it just hit me and alas, this is what happened. So here we go. Oh my God. How did I end up writing something like this. LMAO.  
> Enjoy!  
> P.S. I recommend listening to Hyorin's Dally, RV's So Good or even Suran's Wine to...y'know. I don't know how many times I replayed these songs to get myself in the mood to write. (OKAY, THAT'S TMI).

He’s sighed at least twenty times since stepping into the waiting room.  His sweaty fingers tapped in an impatient frenzy on his sleek-black leather briefcase as if he were rushing to finish up his honours’ thesis – to which he’ll then realize, those days of instant ramen and lukewarm coffee should be left in the past. Trembling hands fumbled and sifted through his resume and references, his brain hard at work as he attempted to cram in the last of his best attributes and greatest achievements into a somewhat coherent sentence.

But every last-minute attempt is futile.

Park Jimin is not suited for this job. He knows this with full certainty. Because which abysmally foolish idiot would apply to a job posting on a whim, completely drunk out of their minds? Well, yes, _admittedly_ , he did – but it was a mistake. A good-to-honest mistake: One dumb night with his laptop and an empty beer can, and a copy-paste of a cover letter and his typical two-paged resume littered with scholarships and awards that he had sent days before.

A joke. That’s what he tells himself. A stupid joke. He can’t even balance his own statements, let alone control the flow of money for a giant conglomerate. 

And yet, here he is now, adjusting the tightness of his tie because the damn birthday gift from his mother was practically choking him, cracking his knuckles every now and then. The secretary sitting behind the mahogany-tinted desk sends him strict smiles every so often, almost as if reminding him to behave.

But really, all it does is instigate a painful reminder in his mind that he was just one small fry, competing against the thousands of fresh university graduates loitering the streets in their second-hand briefcases. No wonder Seok-Jin told him finishing with a s _umma cum laude_ distinction and the highest honours _really_ didn’t mean shit in the real world.

But then again, every experience – good or bad – often comes with a silver lining, did it not? Jimin hides a bemused snigger behind his notes. If he succeeds, he gets a high-paying job with a salary that could pay off the remainder of his parents’ house. A very filial goal. And if he doesn‘t, well, that’s a shame. At least he got some interview experience out of it.

“Park Jimin- _sshi_?” At last, the prim and proper secretary – legs elongated and curves accentuated in that striped pencil skirt – stands up and calls out his name in a professional squeak. Gesturing towards the closed door, she says with a welcoming, polite smile (Uncannily robotic-like), “They’ll see you now.”

 _They?_   _Fuckers. The whole lot of them,_ Jimin scoffs, shaking his head very briefly. The e-mail didn’t even mention multiple interviewees, but he surmises this is just him being the careless fool that he is. What did he expect out of a huge corporation, anyway? He questions as he pushes against the heavy door, swinging it open. It shouldn’t come as a surprise.

What does stop him dead in his tracks, though, is her.

Kang Seulgi, Human Resources manager: Displayed, loud and proud, on her nametag in blockish letters.

She blinks. As does Jimin – and then he contemplates telling her to add ‘hot-as-hell high school ex’ and ‘even hotter ex-university-friends-with-benefits' to that label.

How _long_ has it been since they last saw one another? A year? Perhaps two? Well, whatever. Not that it matters. There’s no denying the fact that even to this day, he still likes what he sees: Her prim yet effortlessly put-together ensemble of ivory-white and navy steals his breath away, forcing him to cough out an ungraceful choke as his Adam’s apple bobs nervously back and forth.  And maybe he’s just being a bit too pretentious for his own good, but this is one of those moments where he can actually sense reciprocation, especially in the way that her eyes – twinkling with mischief – eat up his appearance hungrily.  

Gazes locked on. And a delightful, amused smirk is pulled back:  One that reminds Jimin of late-night pillow talks and soapy suds, lightly scented with pomegranate, lathered against her skin.

No. It’s not his swelling ego at work. Clearly, someone else likes this just as much – if not more than him. Albeit, there’s an interrogative question that he’s itching to ask her, but he’ll save that for some other time.

Setting his briefcase onto the counter, he extends his hand outward. First, to the balding, gruff but seemingly kind-hearted department head. And then, to his left:  The one with the perfectly poised poker-face. Ever the professional:  She’s not the type to let his presence betray her deepest desires.

And neither will he. Because right now, his main goal is to pass this interview with flying colors.

 

* * *

 

 

Jimin’s blessed – or cursed, depending on how one looked at it – with physical attributes meant to turn heads. He’s handsome – God knows it, and fuck, _he_ knows it – but at the end of the day, it’s his golden tongue that wins his crowds over.

And Seulgi is no exception to this, finding herself nodding in approval at the eloquence in the delivery of his answers to every single question bombarded at him. Even though _technically_ , she shouldn’t be this charmed by the crinkly-eyed smartass. Bluntly speaking, his list of accolades wasn’t the most impressive. His most fatal mistake is that he addressed the wrong company twice in his cover letter.

Had it been anybody else, she would’ve discarded it into the recycling in a blink of an eye.

But then again, this is Park Jimin. Admittedly, she was curious. Two years is an incredibly long time, and frankly, she needed to see him for herself. Up close and personal.

 _(Define personal, a teasing voice echoes in the back of her head.)_  

Suffice to say, she smiles knowingly as she unconsciously scribbles an outline of his jaw into her notebook, it was a good choice to bring him in. Spelling mistakes aside.   

“Seulgi- _sshi_? Do you have any other questions?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Meeting his eyes, she questions lightly, “So, Jimin- _sshi_ , what have you been occupied with after graduation?” She questions lightly. It’s a typical interview question, but it serves... an ulterior purpose as well. What that is, well, Seulgi will keep it a secret to herself only. 

“Job-searching and filling in lots of applications. The last six months have been fairly mundane for me,” Jimin laughs, stilted and masked with fake politeness. _What?_ Another voice mocks with derision. _Were you expecting him to say that he was fucking someone else?_ “So, even though I know I’m clearly lacking in some points – such as having never managed such a large budget before – I compensate that through quick thinking and swiftness in learning new duties.”

“So, you’re adaptable, are you?” Seulgi asks – even though technically, it’s a rhetorical question. She‘s aware of his natural ability, capable of making her toes curl and her mind see stars before she reached –

She swallows thickly, desperately pushing that memory away before continuing, “That’s a good quality to have.” If it had only been the two of them in the room, she would’ve coquettishly (Without any shame) asked him for an example, but she holds her tongue. She’ll save that for another time.

“Well,” Jimin replies with a glint to his irises. “I don’t work hard to disappoint.”

_No. No, you don’t. Not at all._

* * *

 

 

The departmental head didn’t even need to think twice before extending his hand out for an enthusiastic handshake after the interview was over.

“See you on Monday.”

Contract signed, papers and documentation requested:  Park Jimin was officially hired. No longer would he be the jobless drunkard, hopping from bar to bar complaining about his wretched post-graduation life. No longer would he have to search for job postings on Indeed, expectant and hopeful only to have his dreams shattered. And maybe, if he played his cards right, he’ll get his icing on the cake in the form of Kang Seulgi once again. 

 _What the fuck are you even thinking, Park Jimin? Get yourself together._ “Sounds good to me, boss.”

Seulgi promptly gets to her feet, letting her hands linger a little too long on her waist, and then slides them down to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt. She hopes that he couldn’t detect her childish excitement. “I’ll see you to the elevator, then,” She offers, one hand preparing to open the meeting room door.

“Bring him to the first floor,” The supervisor barks as he picks up his notepad. “You’ll need to point out where he can park for Monday.”

Seulgi’s mouth curves upward. _Even better._

When the elevator bell pings open, the two steps in with at least three feet in between. It isn’t until when the doors close, however, that he dares to stand unabashedly close. Whether that was unconscious or conscious, Jimin – and fuck it, Seulgi, too – doesn’t exactly _care_.

Or at least, until she senses the light, feathery touches of his fingers dancing playfully on her waist, creeping down, down, _down_ to the small of her back. She doesn’t dislike it, Gods no, but –

Seulgi pulls away, grabbing at his wrist whilst warning through gritted teeth, “Chim. Surveillance camera.”

“My apologies.” But his voice showed no signs of remorse when he inches his hand back. Not at all.

“So,” She begins to say as the elevator continues its downward descent, shrouding them in much-needed privacy. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“So,” Jimin agrees, running a hand through his hair. “Long time no see, Seul.”

“I’d disagree. You see and like my Instagram posts on the daily, don’t you?” 

“My, I’ve been caught. My apologies again,” Jimin says yet again, but there’s a sly, shit-eating smile that she can detect in his words. Suave prick. “Contrarily, I’m just curious who’s the lucky bastard that got to see you up close in a bikini on the beaches of _Haeundae_.”

“You’ve seen more.” Her eyes flash seductively at him. His heart palpitates in double time.

“That I have.” He pauses, then asks pointedly, “You kept my application, didn’t you?”

“Well, normally, I wouldn’t, especially one full of spelling typos that only an elementary school student could commit,” Seulgi says with a teasing smile gracing her face. “Next time, don’t apply for job applications when you’re drunk.”

 _Shit. She knows me too well. “_ Dually noted.”

“But just this once,” She continues. “I made an exception for you. I’m not normally _this_ merciful.”  

“And you pushed for me to be a candidate, still.”

“Not a choice I’m regretting,” She says, turning her heated gaze towards him. “I merely just want to know how much has changed since back then.”

Daringly bold of her to say such things, but him being him, he needs a bit more confirmation. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but the meaning in your words seems to implicate something much more scandalous that happens behind closed doors.”

Another knowing smile. “Surprise me.”

 _Shit._ And Jimin's breath hitches in the base of his throat. “Is that a challenge?”

“More or less,” She replies simply, pinching his dexterous fingers with her own. “We’ll see how you fare.”

He digs his fingernails deep into his palm, the thin line on his chiseled face uplifting into a charming smirk that sets Seulgi’s heart ablaze. The elevator doors open, and they step out into the lobby, the heels of their shoes clacking loudly against the marble floor. He knows; he knows it’s much too early to fantasize – and highly inappropriate, too, for goodness’ sake. He just got hired, Jesus.

But then again, that’s the beauty of having an imagination.  Just because it’s wrong, doesn’t mean he’s not going to stop wondering how she looks underneath the sheets _now_. Except, maybe instead of a blanket, it’ll be plastic binders and papers strewn in the air. And perhaps that weak spot is still there, hitting her in an insatiable heat when their lips connect, with his finger toying her folds playfully – teasingly – underneath the sopping wet piece of fabric. That shiny sheen of rouge outlining the curvature of her mouth would press against his own in a fervent frenzy, with her trembling fingers clenching the sides of her sticky table.

He shakes the thought out of his body and runs a carefree hand through his hair – much more carefree than ever since his convocation half a year ago – and bows politely towards her. No matter how tempted he is to just press her up against the elevator and claim her neck as his, he needs to behave himself. “Well, good-bye for now then, Seulgi- _sshi_ ,” He says, letting her name escape the tip of his tongue with a taunting click. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Seulgi, on the other hand, cocks an eyebrow upward, confused. But ultimately, it gives way to a challenging smile as she waves him farewell. God forbid telepathy to exist; otherwise, she would never live it down had he heard what she had to groan pleadingly in her mind.

‘ _The weekend can fuck off, for all I care.’_  

* * *

 

 

First days are always the most nerve-wracking.

There are too many names that get flung across in all directions, too many sweaty hands of all sizes shaken. Jimin’s mind is deep in a whirlwind full of faces that he has yet to memorize.  The only few people that truly made an impression on him was not that many:  A chirpy, cheerful Son Seung-Hwan from the marketing team, the well-kempt and well-dressed Kim Tae-Hyung who acted as an office administrator, a smart-looking Kim Nam-Joon that lead IT and sipped apple juice on the daily.   

“Something on your mind, Jimin- _sshi_?”

And of course, Kang Seulgi, sitting opposite of him with her arms and legs crossed while he pours through the insanely thick binder full of rules and regulations in her small office. It was always the same bullshit: Confidentiality matters, NDAs and the like – he's heard it all before. His required reading days should be over by now –

So instead, he turns his focus to something else. While his fingers continue to leaf through the pages, he lowers his gaze to observe the decorum in her workspace. Photo frames here and there – huh, no boyfriend yet? The absence of a ring should’ve been a dead giveaway, honestly. And succulents:  A thriving aloe plant to her left, a spiky cactus on her right.  Her business administration degree from _Sungkyunkwan_ hanging on the wall behind her _._ Nothing out of the norm.

And then, his eyes fall onto the young woman before him. Watching her facial features contort into various expressions, her chest (And subsequently, her ample breasts constricting against the tightness of her beige trench coat) while browsing through her laptop was definitely much more enticing than the text before him. 

“You’re not reading it.” Perhaps she meant for it to be a question, but it certainly doesn’t come out as such.

Jimin smirks. “What gave it away?”

Twirling her index finger on the air, she chuckles lowly. “I’ve been trained to read body language, Jimin- _sshi_. What don’t I know?”

“Reading regulations are a waste of my time when I can be doing other things.”

“I’m intrigued. Head honcho’s already given you tasks to do?”

“Let me clarify. I meant, _personal_ endeavors.”

“A bit aggressive, aren’t we? Give appendix two a read, Jimin,” She instructs, sliding her hand closer to flip the pages to the back of the binder. Jimin’s eyes are looking down, concentrated on the text before him, missing the devious grin on her face.

He can’t find the proper adjective to describe it once his eyes skim the words.  So instead, he settles on something neutral. Just so that it won’t land him in hot water on his very first day. “What a specific rule.” _Fuck that. Just call it completely ridiculous._ “No fraternization with colleagues.”

“That’s right.” She nods in agreement. But soon after it escapes her lips, she stands to her feet, closing her laptop shut and walks around her table, wrapping a hand around his shoulder. All of a sudden, the temperature in the room seems incredibly hot – boiling hot. And it’s not the air conditioner going wack. No, most definitely, it’s something else that’s exciting the lower regions of his pants, leaving it unbearably tight and suffocating. “But the thing is, Jimin- _sshi_ , it's so much more fun to say ‘fuck it’, and keep things hush-hush. Makes the daily 9-to-5 grind that much more exciting, don’t you think?”

“No kissing and telling, huh?” Jimin spins around in the chair, and in no time at all, eases her body against the desk. Staring at her now, towering over her – eyes bright with anticipation and ruby-red lips partially open – God, he hasn’t seen this image in a while. He wants – no, _needs_ to enjoy this. Thank fuck the blinds were closed, but –

 _Were the walls soundproof?_ “You’re _such_ a nasty bitch.”

“I am,” She says in agreement. Her hands wrap around the silky-smooth fabric of his tie, and with one powerful yank, drags him towards her. Whispering against his mouth, she says softly, “And you can’t do anything about it.” 

“Not that I would try; I love it.” Jimin laughs hoarsely, letting a finger trail down the side of Seulgi’s jawline, down the curvature of her neck and finally, letting it linger on the first button on her jacket. Unbuttoning it, he realizes at once with wide eyes. There’s only a thin black strap and lace trim peeking out from beneath the thin fabric.  She – she's...

“If I remember correctly,” She says slowly. “This was your favourite piece from Victoria’s Secret.”

 _So, she remembered, huh?_ “God fucking damn. If I were HR, I would’ve fired you in an instant.” Forcing the trench coat lapel open, Jimin immediately makes light work on her exposed cleavage, yanking the cup to the side to release a single breast and thumbs the nipple in between his thumb and index finger. There’s something so, so satisfying about watching her back arch against his touches, watching her eyelids close shut tightly and her mouth morph into the perfect ‘O’. 

Even more so was that sinfully sweet second when his mouth clamps down against it, his tongue twirling incessantly against the hardened nub while his free hand busily massages the other in a gentle caress. He’s ashamed that he’s forgotten how good she is, how much he relished in her reactions, but the whiny mewl that escapes her throat – oh God, _oh God_ , he’s going to ruin his trousers.

_(But fuck it.)_

“Are first-day welcome gifts always this god-damn wonderful?” He hisses against her earlobe, palms resting on either side of her head.

Feeling her lower jaw uplift into a smile, Seulgi replies breathily, “Only for you, Jimin- _sshi._ ” And with that, her heels fall off her feet and clatter to the carpeted floor. “Only for you.”

 

* * *

 

 

That fleeting moment of euphoric ecstasy doesn’t last long. Not for another minute. Not for another second, even.

Because apparently, people at this company love intruding on things just as they start to pick up traction.

The apprehensive knock – a light, knuckled ‘tap-tap’ – intrusively pierces through the air, intermingling in with their heavy breathing and muted moans. Jimin, his hand once preoccupied with the elastic waistband of Seulgi’s scandalously matching panties, runs it through his hair, spreading it into a tousled mess.

“My, oh, my. After sex hair is so damn attractive on you.”

“Forget after sex,” He spits out in frustration, standing upright. Looking down at the bulging tent in his pants, he mutters in embarrassment, “This is post-foreplay hair. Jesus, who is **_that_**?!”

The voice that calls afterward confirms the identity. “Ah, Seulgi- _sshi_ , are you in there? I need to talk to Jimin about his Outlook account!” Kim _fucking_ Nam-Joon from _fucking_ IT.

Jimin shouldn’t be this irate and knows how incredibly crass it is to drop the derogatory word so many times, but seriously. _Fuck_.

So, inevitably, it doesn’t lead to sex. Seulgi buttons up her coat and quickly fixes up her make-up by swiping a coat of lipstick over her lips and combs out her messy fringe with her fingers. Jimin, on the other hand, glues himself to his chair – he needed to take care of this before Nam-Joon caught sight of it.

“Here,” Seulgi says in an urgent hush. Handing a flimsy binder towards him, she continues with a teasing smirk, “There’s a bathroom right next to your cubicle. I presume you’ll have no problems getting yourself... settled?”

“Shut **_up_** , Seul.”  

She won this round this time around, he surmises as Nam-Joon walks in, oblivious to the musty scent of sweat and sex surrounding the room. But maybe – just maybe – that's exactly how she wants him to behave. Maybe her idyllic fantasy is to have him so sexually frustrated – to taunt him mercilessly, with them just separated by a cubicle, a hallway and an office door; to have her just barely within his grasp; to make him want her – only to be defeatedly disappointed by yet another distraction.

He’s probably thinking too much about this. No, not probably – he _is_. And that come-hither expression she gives him later in the hallway when she leaves for lunch break (Trench coat unbuttoned, with a striped shirt and a short skirt underneath) isn’t helping, either.

But two can play at _that_ game.

So, a week into his new position, Jimin dives his nose head-on into the innumerable list of tasks that he needs to do:  Learning how to do payroll (And not screw it up); draft the financial statements – and wondering why the hell he‘s short by three hundred dollars; preparing expense reports for the employees (Apparently, Kim Tae-Hyung and his secretary, Bae Joo-Hyun, often go on ‘business trips’ together and drop at least two hundred on filet mignons each time). He’s no workaholic, to be honest, but he needed something to keep himself distracted from Kang-damnit-Seulgi.

His solution, however, actually manifested a few days later.

Jimin walks into the shared canteen – a tight little space, no more than ten by ten feet. “Excuse me,” He says politely to a thin, willowy girl with waist-length hair in a vibrant shade of orange while dressed in an ensemble that brought out her best features (Namely, her hips). He hasn’t met her before. She wasn’t here for the last seven days, but her presence definitely isn’t unwelcome. It must be a prerequisite for every single person working in this company to be this charmingly gorgeous.

_But she’ll never rival Seulgi._

“Oh, I’m sorry!” She apologizes, bowing her head slightly with a pretty smile on her face. The instant coffee maker is on, steaming away while a frothy caramel-tinted liquid dispenses into a decorated Studio Ghibli mug. “I’m almost done and I’ll be out of your way.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever met, have we?” Jimin asks, reaching into one of the cabinets for his own cup, emblazoned with a tacky “ **I LOVE TOKYO TOWER** ” on it in hideous block letters. “I’m Park Jimin. I’m going to be taking over as controller.”

“Oh, I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” she says. There’s a coquettish bat to her eyelashes that Jimin knows all too well:  It’s the same gaze that Seulgi masterfully sends him every few seconds from afar. She’ll stroke the side of her neck with two fingers, almost as if mocking him for their impromptu interruption from days before. Damnit. So much for Seulgi not taking up the entirety of his mind.

This young woman, however, knows where to draw the line. Instead of following up with some pick-up line implicit with innuendos, she holds her hand out for a firm shake. “You can call me Chae-Young. I’ll be an intern here for the next month.”    

“Four weeks only? What a shame.”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” Chae-Young comments, faking a playful punch to his shoulder. How bold. “Well, I have my eyes set for something much greater:  PwC. With any luck, I should be able to land an interview with them next month and then move back to Australia.”

She’s got sky-high goals, that’s for sure:  Very admirable. But honestly? the only thing that lingered in his mind was the very fact that she wasn’t permanent.

And given that she’s not a permanent employee, that means –  

Jimin lets out a devious scoff behind his elbow. Oh, then two can _definitely_ play this game. And he’s certain he’ll win.

“You alright there?”

“Nothing.” Whirling around from his cup with a respectful smile, he continues, “Nothing at all.”

As if right on cue, Kang Seulgi suddenly steps into the tiny kitchenette, flashing both Jimin and Chae-Young her trademark professional grin. _Did she see anything?_ Jimin wonders, curling a finger underneath his chin. Picking up his cup, he turns his attention back to Seulgi, chatting animatedly with the young woman. _Huh._ _Looks like she didn’t._

“Good morning, everyone. Oh, and Chae-Young- _sshi_ , come find me in my office later, okay? I need to settle some more paperwork with you to set up your direct deposit. And Jimin- _sshi_ ,” Her façade still in place, she continues, “I hope you’re not causing any trouble during your first week.”

“Well, I make no promises,” Mouth curved, he suddenly slides over to Chae-Young's side, leaning forward onto his toes to help her reach the canister of sugar overhead. Pressing it into the younger girls’ fumbling hands, making sure to prod her cheek afterward (A deliberate move; a spark to light up the fire), he adds with a charming smile, “But I’ll promise to be helpful wherever I see fit.”

Chae-Young – young, naïve and bright-eyed – is fully charmed, her throat clenching dry when Jimin flashes her a wink.

Seulgi, on the other hand, is not, watching the spectacle unraveling before her with her jaw clamped together, chin tightening. _Jimin. Fucking Park Jimin. What the hell is he doing?_   

The answer comes a split second later. Much too suave for Seulgi to handle. “Even the most brilliant of interns need some assistance getting the sugar.” 

“Oh, please, I’m pretty certain that if you removed your insoles, you’d need just as much help,” Chae-Young mumbles with an embarrassed blush dusting her cheeks.

And unconsciously, a single word – two syllables, no more, no less – leaves Seulgi’s bitter mouth in an inaudible whisper. “Asshole.”

She doesn’t understand why she’s behaving this way. It’s unfathomable, really, to be jealous over some intern.

 _(Some smart-mouthed beautiful intern that’s had Jimin in a trance)._  

And she’s not really sure why, but there was a desperate need for her to confront him. It’s like she was controlled by some other supernatural force, compelling her to grip his shoulder tightly and murmur, “Jimin- _sshi_ , let’s have a quick talk.”

Oh, she doesn’t just ‘talk’. It comes out in a bark: Full of anger and bitterness. And when she comes to a halt, an uncharacteristic snap is unleashed. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Why, I’m insulted,” Jimin snorts. It’s three-thirty:  Perfect timing for the second coffee break, not for this. They’re on the second to last floor of the building, arms crossed against their chests within the fire exit stairwell. Seulgi looks particularly dangerous – almost threatening, but Jimin can’t say he dislikes it. Oh, no, that hazardous flash isn’t intimidating in the slightest.  “Although Seul, I’m not sure whether this is truly justified. It’s not like we’re in an actual relationship now, are we?”

Good point. His question catches her off-guard, leaving her momentarily speechless before stammering, “W-well, I – “

“Of course, it’s natural you’d feel this way,” Jimin says nonchalantly. How does he manage to keep his gaze so leveled when his hands keep teasing the hem of her skirt? “Maybe a little hot. Probably super bothered.” Without warning, he presses her up against cold plaster, face first. Hissing into her ear, he says, “Just like how you were after our first little encounter. Let’s see how you’d like a taste of your medicine.” 

For once, Seulgi’s actually clawing at his hands frantically to keep him at bay. “Jimin! Are you out of your mind?! Not here, not here – **_not here_**!”

Or, she pauses, is that actually what she thinks?

But she doesn’t have time to think about it. “Well, I don’t really give a shit,” He mocks, flipping her skirt upward whilst taking in her panties hungrily, glistening wet. He gives it a forceful, fast pull down to her ankles, and Seulgi doesn’t dare – or, more accurately, _can’t_ ask whether he had accidentally torn a rip in them because before she even opens up her mouth, she feels something –

Something long, hard and flexible, plunging deep into her soaking core without any warning. It’s slow at first, the length of the thin appendix moving in and out. If she still recalls through her delirious haze of pleasure, this – this was his third finger, right?

No. Fourth. Unless –

“Jimin, I – I,” She cries out, planting her arm against the wall to support her weakening legs. Every single thrust forces her knees to buckle further and further, but Jimin – somehow – is keeping her upright, wrapping his arm around her waist in a vice-like grip.

“Listen. You aren’t going down unless it’s from me only.”

Seulgi can hear it in his voice:  He _means_ it, and by this time, he’s already inched another digit in. Discreetly at first, but then –

She realizes, oh how wrong _again_ she is. Three fingers:  Second, third and fourth, moving in fast-paced synchronization. The vigorous thrust, the continuous in-and-out followed with a brief interplay of curling and scissoring within her –

Shamefully, she has to admit through haggard, high-pitched gasps, she doesn’t dislike it. And performing such sinfully wicked acts in a hallway that every single person can access?

She likes this even more.  

“Jimin - Jimin, I – “ Hair tossing messily behind her and cascading down her back, she pants in heavy gasps while lifting her left leg into the air for better accessibility, “Jimin, **_ah_**!”

“You’d better learn to be quiet,” Jimin warns, snaking his arm around her shoulders. His palm, previously occupied with flicking her hypersensitive clit, now clamps against her mouth to shush her. She can smell her own essence, damp yet pungent, through his skin. Embarrassing, to say the least, that she would be so titillated through something she can perform by herself. “Or, do you need a lesson on how to remain silent?”

But that’s the thing. He ought to know this:  She just _can’t_. It’s virtually impossible, given how she’s so powerless under his –

And at last, she feels it come. The shudder of anticipation rocks her violently, straight from the core and radiates to the tips of her fingers and her toes as she hollers out with her irises lolling upwards, “ ** _Jimin_**!”

That's what she wants to scream – full of orgasmic pleasure. That’s what she wants to hear echoing shrilly, not giving a single flying fuck who overheard, and she wants nothing more than to collapse onto the marble flooring to take it all in. What she – what _they_ had just done.

But no. The ballistic shriek is muffled to nothing but a soft groan against his hand. She doesn’t even have a second to relax – Jimin, that selfish bastard. Instead, he promptly spins her limp body around like a ragdoll, and his lathered fingers suddenly approach her mouth as if prodding her to give it a taste. Unconsciously, she opens her mouth and wraps her tongue around them, sucking in every last drop, every little bit of evidence of their atrocities. Why is it that her juices become that much more delicious when he’s deliberately feeding it to her?

“Aren’t you just full of spice and everything nice?”

His taunt knocks her back into reality. Pulling her ruined panties up to her waist, she sends him a vicious glare before storming off in a fatigued limp, muttering, “...God.”

“Have a nice weekend, Seulgi- _sshi_. Don’t miss me too much.”  


* * *

 

It’s been three days now.

Well, three _business_ days (Excluding the weekend). He thought that the last encounter would’ve worked some magic on her. Maybe have her dig her nails into his forearm in the hallway when they passed, claiming that she needed more.

Or at the very least, she would’ve exchanged a stiff nod with him when she arrived in the office.

But no. She didn’t talk to him during their habitual morning ascent. She barely batted an eyelid at him when she stepped into the canteen for her warm cup of cinnamon chai. And now, at eight thirty on a Wednesday evening (Overtime already in his second week of work), she _still_ isn’t talking to him, treating him invisibly.

Slow on the uptake as per usual: Only now does he realize how presumptuous he’s become.

But perhaps, he thinks to himself after taking a swig of evening decaf, he can fix that.

Tae-Hyung and Joo-Hyun are digging for old files in the dingy archives within the basement, with the older woman muttering with a disgusted grimace, “Wish us luck.”

“Don’t get lost on the way.” _And have fun_ , Jimin adds as a naughty afterthought. They step out into the hallway, speaking in a muted whisper, and immediately, Jimin –

His eyes lock onto his moving target, emerging from her office with a bitter scorn and a stack of files. Goodness gracious, a smile suits her pretty face so much better than a frown. She drops them onto his desk with a thud, barely looking into his expectant gaze as she says, “If you don’t need anything else, then I’ll be on my way.”

Two steps from her office. She’s only two steps away when she suddenly stops, dead in her tracks. Jimin’s voice rings out in the dark office, and her entire body shivers when his voice rings out. God, she’s so weak.

She’s so **_damn weak_**.  

“A little rude, Seulgi- _sshi_. Although I must say, this is a big improvement in comparison to what had conspired the entire day, with you being a complete knucklehead and all.”

“I’m the knucklehead?” She twirls around on her heel, stomping over in infuriation. “Who’s the one who decided to flirt up our new hire in front of my face?”

Jimin only stares into her eyes. Blankly. Innocently. Like he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Let me get this straight. You’re mad – over a pretty girl that I was sweet talking with. Not for...other things.”

“I am – “ She struggles briefly with her words because that gaze he’s giving her – skeptical yet somehow full of knowing – is screwing her up. Shit. He knows, God damnit. He _knows_ she’s in denial, and it’s unexplainable why she’s feeling this way.

_(You miss him, don’t you?)_

Instead of continuing her sentence, she ends up saying softly, “That was deliberate and you know it.”

“Oh, and like you’ve been playing innocent and haven’t been deliberate with me for the entirety of last week?” JImin laughs.

“That is totally different," she attempts to fight back, her brows knitted together in frustration. "Different context. Different scenario.”

“Oh no, it’s not.” He beckons her figure towards him with a single finger: It’s the same one that had been inside her, testing, tasting, teasing every single part of her, drawing her over like a moth to a flame. “Come here, you.”

Frankly, Seulgi can never stay furious for too long. Especially when he eyes her up and down like _that_. “Don’t be mad,” Jimin croons, saccharinely sweet while interlacing his fingers in between hers. She’s a little hesitant at first but eventually succumbs to his touch. Positions are shifted:  She’s somehow in his seat, he’s kneeling.

At best, he’s this dashing Prince Charming willing to whisk her away from her duties and responsibilities.

At his worst, however, he’s a devious imp that knows her every crevice and curve like the back of his own hand. And he knows how to exploit them just so that she’ll give in and beg for mercy. “I’ll give you a little something to make up for it.”

And, Seulgi realizes with a hitched breath, that’s exactly what he will be. A curious, prompting hand snakes down her stocking gently and expectantly, the luxurious lace tears sluggishly against her skin. She’s not even surprised at his versatility anymore. Rough and coarse, smooth and supple – he can do it all. Jimin’s fingers graze slightly against the growing dampness in her underwear.

That look. That electrifying stare. It excites him.

No. Excites them _both_.

“I ngh – I like that.” Seulgi chews her lower lip, her entwined legs spreading wider and wider to welcome him in.

Jimin toys with the thin fabric, pulling it aside. His hands press on either side of her thigh, exposing the plumpness of her labia, moist and convulsing. “And I like you.”

“W-wait, what did you – ?”

It’s too late. He descends upon it without giving it a second thought. As if it were a habit. Jimin’s a masterful bastard, lapping his muscle against her wet crotch as the salty stream of liquid threatens to spill uncontrollably and dribble down her bare thighs. Drawing his tongue down, and then back up. There’s a particular pattern to his movements:  One that makes her reminisce about late, drunken nights where he would perform his duty on her while she wept over her assignments. Sobbing, however, eventually gave way to a sensual, seductive moan that her next-door neighbours could hear. Good God.

Seulgi's fingers that were once holding Jimin’s are now entangled within the wavy hazelnut strands, her nails digging deep into his scalp.

She wants more. She _needs_ more. Her back, her hips push forth a few inches off the chair and into Jimin’s mouth. One arm coils around her legs to keep her stationary, but no. She _can’t_. She can’t just stay still. It’s too much.

“Seulgi?! I need your help!”

Until she hears Tae-Hyung hollering for her from the elevator.

Pleasure transforms into panic as her eyelids burst open to the muted fluorescence emitting from Jimin’s desk light. “A-ah, y-yes, Tae-Hyung!” Tae-Hyung? No, _fuck that beret-wearing idiot_. It’s Jimin that she wants to scream for. “I-I'm coming!”

“Are you now?” Jimin hisses hotly, continuing his ministrations with hooded eyelids from underneath his desk. He lets out a small hum of pleasure as his tongue playfully dances in a swirl.  “I didn’t get a chance the other day, but my, you still taste just as wonderful as before.”

“Shut up for just one second!” She snaps back in a berserk, attempting to untangle her limbs away from Jimin – but to no avail. “Tae-Hyung's right – right, **_ah!_** ” He hits her again. God _damn_ him. She’s so close. She’s _so close_! That all-too-familiar sensation is throbbing deep, itching to combust inside.

No. No, _he can’t do this._

Kim Tae-Hyung, only ten meters away, waves energetically at her with a childish, sunny beam. But all that dissipates as soon as he catches sight of Seulgi’s eyes, alight while clutching the armchairs of Jimin’s seat with bare-white knuckles. “Whoa,” He comments under his breath, bewildered. “What’s up? And uh, why are you sitting there? Where’d our – ”

“Fine! I – am fine!” She wheezes out, watching as Jimin _finally_ pulls away. Although, there was something that definitely didn’t seem...right.

It felt – _wrong_. She didn’t...feel complete, as if she was missing something.

“Uh, you sound like a robot. Are you _sure_ you’re doing okay?”

Her suspicions are confirmed when she averts her eyes downward ever so slightly, only to have them widen in horror at the sight. He still kept it. How the fuck, and most importantly, _why_? How he managed to do this without her knowledge – and how she never felt the slightest tingle from the leather crisscrossing her pelvis – she’ll never know. Maybe she was still riding off the high from her near-orgasm.

But all she sees now are the thick straps of black leather, binding against her domain in an uncomfortable hold. He gives one part a slight adjustment just to loosen it briefly but then proceeds to fasten another section a bit tighter. She winces as the binding clamps against her, clenching, obstructing, confining – and she realizes at once what he’s doing. He wants to put her under _his_ control.

Dangling between Jimin’s bared teeth was a small silver key.

“Well, okay, if you say so! I need to grab something in the archives, but I don’t have the key! Can I go into your office?!”

Still too stunned to reply, she manages to fumble out a squeaky, “Y-yes!”

It’s a lie:  She loathes it when strangers enter her room, even if it was with her permission. Looking down at the young man smirking in front of her, she asks shakily with her heart throbbing against her chest, “H-how...?”

“You don’t need to know how,” He says slyly. “But as always,” Palming her sensitive spot, she feels that ever-so-familiar sensation rising once again, but it quickly dies down when he takes it away. “I think you deserve a punishment for misbehaving. I’d say, a day or two in this well-loved gadget of ours should do you some good in terms of discipline.” 

“Y-you’re just going to _leave_ me like this?!”

Only for Jimin to sing airily, “Have fun, my dear.”

She shouldn’t have underestimated him. Because now that she did, she realized how unfair of a match-up this was.

Undeniably, Seulgi has lost the game.

* * *

 

 

And the aftermath. The consequences. They’re painful to deal with.

Fuck, this hurts her like hell, and yet, she’s enjoying it.

It’s a bit of an oxymoron to say this. She hates that he has her wrapped around his finger, but at the same time, loves his resistance. That agony of watching his eyes flicker at the apparatus clinging to her underneath her clothes eats at her insides like some mutant plague, but it fills her with lusty desires and wishes for it to be curbed. 

She sighs, pushing her keyboard away and rolls up the hem of her skirt. Shakily, she presses a finger against her throbbing clit – as if trying to relieve it from its pressure.

Big mistake. Her hypersensitive body suddenly jerks upward from the simple prod, and she lets out a horrendously loud and strangled gasp into the warm air. Just a little bit more stimulation and she’s certain she’ll come.

But she needs him here to help her get there. 

Maybe that’s what he planned right from the get-go. Maybe this is his form of revenge. But why do all this work, bringing back a trinket from their past no less, just because he couldn’t have her on his first day? Jimin’s salty, yes, but –

Not _this_ salty.  

It’s yet another late Thursday night at the office, and she’s the only one present. Frankly, she didn’t need to stay, but she does, anyway. Her colleagues trickle out the door one by one, bidding their farewells and anxiously anticipating their weekend to come, with Jimin sticking around. But seeing that she was in no hurry to leave when the hour hand hit seven, he, too, called it quits and left as well, locking his cabinets shut.

Honestly, there was no point in staying whatsoever. Jimin wouldn’t be this careless to leave the key lying around absentmindedly, but as her hand grazes against the sharp edges of his desk, her cheeks tinge pink as memories from the previous night floods back into her subconscious. Good God, she stifles a humorless laugh, he’s a fucking brilliant tool. And she desperately needs him more than ever.

_Fuck it. Why not give it a try?_

Seulgi’s too wrapped up in her thoughts and tugging on the handle of his cabinet with all the strength she could muster that she doesn’t notice another lean form, observing her with a quirked eyebrow and a devious smirk on his lips.

“Trying to break into my desk, Seulgi- _sshi_?”

And when she slowly straightens her body, gaping at the shadow looming before her, Park Jimin has to admit:  Indeed, it’s rather satisfying to see how the tables have turned in his favour.

 

* * *

 

Red-handed. She’s caught red-handed. And even through this darkness, she can see that wolfish grin emerging.  Plastered across his handsome face, proving that he’s emerged triumphant in this battle of push-and-pull. But at that very moment, Seulgi doesn‘t seem to mind.

And when she lunges towards him in desperation, her hands balling up into fists as they clung onto his expensive dress shirt, she pleads, “Jimin. I – I need you.”

“I can’t hear you.” Cocking his head to the side, he repeats firmly, “What do you need?” There’s a recognizable jingling of keys in his pocket, taunting her like there was no tomorrow. 

Her nails are digging into his skin at this point. “ _You_.”

Still, his arms remain slack against his sides. “So aggressive.”

Seulgi, however, doesn’t. She’s lost all patience with him at this point – which, to be fair, was quite minimal since yesterday evening. In a fury, she screams out, “Jesus fucking Christ, Park Jimin, how many more times do I – ?!” But her outburst is cut short. It takes her brain a few moments – equivalent to ten heartbeats, maybe more – to register that his supple lips are pressed against hers.

He’s kissing her. He’s really kissing her this time now without the same urgency that she had witnessed from his first-day orientation. That day, their actions were purely driven by passionate lust and a need to explore something that they had both missed. But this time, it feels – strange.

Strange, but – right. It makes her heart flutter in all the right places, and Seulgi dizzily questions, as his tongue swipes across her lower lip for entry, what is he intending to do? Have carnal rough sex on the tabletop and be done with it to satisfy their immediate needs? Or, is he done with this stupid game and is letting his heart – not animalistic urges – take control?

At last, they part, gasping for breath. Jimin’s lips are coated with traces of her lipstick, and he wipes it away with the back of his hand. “You seem – bemused,” He points out with a shit-eating grin, preparing to loosen the knot of his tie. “You still enjoy my kisses that much?”

“Only if they – they're always like that.” She mumbles the last part of her answer rather quietly, but Jimin’s ears never fail him. It’s not just sex that she wants. He can see it her eyes, his hands frozen in mid-air. She wants the entirety of him, and that involved something much riskier. It’s not love, but it reminds him of such.

He doesn’t dare ask any more questions, because the longer he dawdles, the higher the probability that she’ll chicken out and just tell him that she didn’t mean to put her words like that. And since it’s with Seulgi, well.

Of course, he won’t hesitate to take the plunge.

“Why, of course.” And the key jingles once again.

 

* * *

 

 

It happens in a dream-like haze:  The way he loosens the straps to the belt and lets it slide off her body and onto the floor with a soft _plop_ , the way their hands fumble clumsily over the buttons of their clothes, the way that Seulgi can’t seem to get enough of him and wounds her arms around his neck, pulling him close as she kisses him once again. His own shirt is left open, and her hands glide down, tracing over the well-developed musculature of his stomach. Somehow, her shirt slides haphazardly down her shoulder, and the skirt has been flung to God knows where, leaving her practically bare in stiletto heels and the same lacy black bra she wore on his first day.  

“We,” She gasps against his cheek, wrapping her thin legs around his waist. “We need more space.”

“Office it is,” Jimin growls, hoisting her up. He kicks the door open, and Seulgi leaps off, getting down to her knees. Oh, that view. He’s missed this. He tilts her chin upward, and she stares deep into his irises, concerned.

“Something the matter?”

“I just – I just want to look at you a little bit more,” Jimin confesses apprehensively, running his hand through her hair. “So - please, just let me.”

“All the time in the world for that later.” Pulling the zipper of his trousers downward, she touches his bulge. Precariously, at first, but then that shyness dissipates as soon as his briefs are removed. His cock isn’t of much surprise to her; she’s seen it before, but at least this time, she’ll be able to reciprocate.

“I’m sorry,” She apologizes, stroking the length of his member slowly.

“W-why are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you what you needed.” She thumbs the tip gently and then wraps her lips around it. Jimin’s fist pounds against the side of the drywall, his eyes squinted shut. He remembers this well, the image of her head bobbing up and down, working her magic – he's so damn ecstatic that he has a chance to savour this. Savour _her_.

“Jimin.”

He lets out a muffled grunt. “Uh, y-yeah?”

“...Nothing.”

That catches his attention. Glancing down, Seulgi has her hand wrapped around the base of his member, her expression perplexed. “Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?” His question remains unanswered. She wraps her mouth around him once again, and he lets out a vicious hiss. His fingers, once caressing her locks, now wrapped around the thick brown curls roughly.

That is, until he feels a growing urge for a release rising quickly in the pit of his stomach. And immediately, he draws back, pushing her away gruffly. Frowning, Seulgi questions, “Did I do something wrong?”

He tells her no by lifting her into the air, chuckling at her sudden squeak of surprise emitting from the base of her throat. And then wordlessly, he places her daintily on top of her desk. Jimin’s going to be in for a lot of trouble later, but he’s the controller, after all. He has enough power to persuade management that they’ll have enough money left over to purchase a new laptop for their beloved HR manager.

Shoving everything to the side, Seulgi laughs crisply before tossing her head back. Lying down with her back flat against her desk, she whispers, “Of course, you’d do that.”

“You need to be comfortable. What kind of man would I be if I forced you to have sex on top of a stapler? Jesus Christ,” Jimin replies, adjusting his erect member carefully at her entrance. It’s already well-lubricated enough for easy entry. All he needs to do is just push. But he’s not like that. “Seul,” His voice is soft, unbearably warm. The tiny sliver of moonlight creeps into her office, illuminating her in a dazzling, white glow. “Are you ready?”

“You made me wait a full day to do so. I’m always ready,” She snickers, tightening her legs around him. “Come get me.”

He makes the first move, thrusting first and digging as deep as she would allow. Even if he moves slowly so that she can adjust, he’s stunned to find her so much tighter than he had expected. He didn’t sense this last week when he had vigorously pumped in and out with his digits. Has it been a while for her? The lingering fear that he would hurt her during their love-making seems to multiply two-fold, especially when he notices the wince that flashes across her face.

But then, she pats his cheek and smiles encouragingly with sweat beading down her forehead. “No. Don’t stop. Keep going.”

So, he does, withdrawing and then closing in. Like a programmed machine, the only duty being to keep Seulgi satisfied. He repeats this over and over, taking extra care to be gentle, but she finds his softness too...much. It's not enough.

“What are you doing?” She demands.

“Just being a gentleman.”

“Well, don’t.” And with that, she grinds her hips against his. It shocks him, to say the least, but he appreciates her dominant nature. Chuckling in heavy breaths, he recalls a foggy memory from their past where she, frustrated, irritated and desperately needing some resolution after a shitty day dealing with a lazy professor, had pushed him into her bed without another word exchanged. He didn’t last long:  Only two rounds that day. Maybe they’ll last more from now on?

_Still, it’s nice to see that hasn’t changed much._

And so, he picks up his pace as well until they both establish a rhythm that leaves them mewling and groaning in unison. There’s a certain quality in her endless whimpers exhaling out from her lungs that leaves him feeling...blissful. It's a nice thought:  That she’s his, and his alone. Perhaps she’s already thinking the same thing.  

Her body suddenly clenches tighter around his shaft, encouraging him to increase his velocity. And he does, a growl expelling into the air as Seulgi’s breath becomes increasingly haggard. This moment: It’s not going to last forever. Her face, riding off the euphoria of their orgasms, is something that he wants to etch anew into his memories.

After two years, he needs to replace that fragmented image with a new picture:  He needs to see her face when she comes.

“Jimin, I – “ Seulgi tries to say, but her breath catches in her throat when Jimin captures her lips again to shush her. Even then, that doesn’t perturb her to stay quiet. In a low mumble, she heaves, “Don’t stop now.”

As if he would. There’s no fucking way he’ll stop now. Her words manage to lure the creeping urge out of him in the form of a final thrust, and Jimin exhales a husky groan as traces of his rapture – white and sticky – oozes into her trembling body.

The last of Seulgi's orgasm dissolves in an almost spasmodic manner, but with Jimin holding her close to his heart, she realizes this:  There’s nothing – nothing in this fucking world – that will ever exceed him.

 

* * *

 

 

A somewhat awkward silence fills the space as Jimin finally withdraws his limp cock from her. Scrounging the carpet blindly, he finally locates the tissue box and rips out a few pieces to dab at her reddened thighs.

“I’m so sorry about your neck,” He says, helping her get to her feet. She’s still a little wobbly, staggering about like a drunkard. Drunk toddler, he thinks to himself in amusement, and he can’t help his giggle when she shoots him a look of disapproval. “You might want to wear a scarf tomorrow.”

“Why should I be ashamed?” Seulgi asks, wrapping herself in the soft fabric of his oversized dress shirt. And then she, too, starts to laugh. Truly, she works the boyfriend shirt much better than any of the other girls he dated in the last year of his undergraduate career. “Hiring you, my God, was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

“Well,” He says, drawing her near. “Now you know. Am I going to get fired for fooling around with the attractive HR manager?”

“Trust me,” She reassures, stroking his arm languidly. “We won’t lose our jobs. So long as...” She averts her eyes away when she says this. “We don‘t limit ourselves to conducting such deplorable activities only in the workspace.” Just as he prepares to say something, she interrupts him. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“So, I mean,” Pressing her fingers together, she sucks in a deep breath before asking casually, “What do you want out of this?”

For a moment, Jimin remains silent, and the growing absence of sound causes a mild sense of discomfort in her stomach. Perhaps this was too soon. Much too soon for them to be talking about the prospect of building a relationship once again. God, she’s imbecilic.

But then, he ends up wrapping his arms around her waist and presses his lips against her shoulder softly. There’s nothing sensual about it; it was just pure, perfect. And in a way, it comforts her to a degree. The mutual attraction is there, and the sexual chemistry that ignites between them? Impalpably enticing.

But he hesitates. Not because he doesn’t like her, _God_ no. But this time around, rather than rushing into a relationship, it’s better to take things nice and slow. After all, he’s not planning on leaving his position as controller any time soon.

“I’m not sure what I want yet,” Jimin confesses to her skin, sending goosebumps running all over. “But right now, all I know is that I want you, and I don’t want this arrangement to stop. I want to take you out on dates, and I want to get to know you again, starting from scratch. You're no longer the same person that you were from two years ago, and neither am I. So, let’s give ourselves a little time first.”

And then, he laughs. “I’m selfish, aren’t I?”

She agrees. Jimin sheepishly grimaces as he awaits her next reply.

“But,” Seulgi clarifies at last, smiling all the while. “I’m willing to wait if time is what you need. In the meantime, I think I’m down for round two.”

And Jimin only says one thing with his forehead pressed against her matted bangs. 

"As you wish."

**Author's Note:**

> ...I still can't believe I wrote that. Holy crap. LOL. IN ANY CASE, if you made it through nearly twenty pages of smut (I've been writing a lot recently, shit LOL), I commend you AHAHA. X'D I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome! :3


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